


Love Me Blue

by GW99



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Implied/Referenced Abuse, Jealousy, Kinda, M/M, Modern AU, Pining, Richie is in a band!!!, Slow Burn, any larries here?, because after all these years i'm still Trash, bev plays keyboard, bill plays drums!, but it's starting to come back, eddie is soft, eddie's boyfriend is a jerk, he has some attitude but it's been pressed down, he sings and plays guitar, they meet at a really shady bar, they meet in a bathroom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-02-09 07:38:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12883179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GW99/pseuds/GW99
Summary: "He’s small, but boy, he’s got some fire in him.” Mike chuckled and shook his head, though Richie wasn’t sure there was much humor behind it. “I think maybe that fire’s still there, but Jake’s doing everything he can to put it out.”Richie thought that might be a good way to put it. He hadn’t known Eddie for long, but he thought that sometimes he could see a little bit of that fire. It wasn’t out there, bright enough that everyone could see it, all the time, but it was there and it came out when Richie made a shitty joke in one of his Voices and he told him to shut up. He saw that fire when Eddie would shove him for being annoying, or when he was told not to call him Eds.He saw that fire.He did. He saw it, and he wanted more of it.





	1. i

**Author's Note:**

> so... this is also posted on my tumblr. there's also a spotify playlist that goes along with it but i'm not totally sure how to link it here so hit my up @greywatertrashmouth on tumblr for the playlist :')
> 
> hope y'all enjoy!

“I don’t even know this band,” Eddie said for the umpteenth time that night as they walked the streets of Derry. Mike, his long-term best friend, had invited him to a local dive bar where a band that he couldn’t even remember the name of was performing that night. Mike had told him all about them, how they were from Maine -- maybe Bangor or Castle Rock -- and travelled around the state performing wherever they could get a gig. 

“That’s okay,” Mike answered, his hand in Eddie’s as he led him through the door into the bar. There were quite a few people there, but not so many that he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He had space around him, besides where Mike was holding his hand, and the music wasn’t obnoxiously loud. It wasn’t a club by any means, though that had been what Eddie was expecting. He was led directly to the bar and he allowed Mike to order for him as he looked around. There were a few people dancing, a few sat at the bar on tall stools as they drank, groups sat in booths lining the walls, and Eddie even saw a girl in some guy’s lap making out like they would never be able to touch another person again.

He wondered if they knew each other or if they’d just met.

He wondered if that even mattered.

“Here,” Mike said as he handed him a small glass. He took it and looked down at it for a moment.

“What is this?” He asked, brows furrowing as he looked at him again.

“A drink. To help you loosen up a bit,” he smiled, downing his own drink in one gulp. “We’ve got a bit before they go on. Breathe a little, babe.” He used these pet names with him, but neither one of them could ever imagine a relationship with the other. They had been friends for so long and Mike had cared for him in ways he’d never had someone care for him before, so the pet names came naturally.

Truthfully, Eddie didn’t mind. Jake never called him any pet names anymore and he had always thought they were cute. Even if it was only his friend saying them, he would take what he could get. He took a deep breath and looked around the room, then decided fuck it and downed his drink as well. He winced, nearly spitting it back out as Mike laughed.

“What the fuck was that?” He coughed, looking at him through squinted eyes. “It tasted like liquid fire, Mike, what the fuck?”

“Vodka and sprite,” he answered with a smile. “It’ll go away soon, Eddie, just keep breathing.” He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and looked up at the small stage where the band would soon be playing. There was already a man up there setting up his drum set from what Eddie could tell, but he couldn’t see him very well. “Stan said he might drop by.”

“Did he?” Eddie asked somewhat distractedly. He could never imagine Stan coming to a bar as shady as this one. It smelled vaguely like weed and more noticeably like alcohol and sweat. Stan would probably hate it. Mike, ever the observant one, noticed that Eddie’s mind was elsewhere and gently tapped his shoulder to get his attention again. “Hm?” He hummed, looking at him once more.

“Where’d you go?” He asked, amusement dancing behind his eyes. Eddie shook his head.

“Nowhere,” he said, forcing a small smile on his lips. “I actually need to go to the bathroom.” He set his empty glass down on the bar and Mike’s brows furrowed. He knew Eddie better than this, and he knew that, but he needed to breathe a little bit somewhere away from the crowd and away from the music. He pointed him in the direction, and off he went toward the bathroom.

Once he was in there, the blast of cool air was welcomed. It was a few degrees cooler in there due to the tile and the fact that it was empty, unlike the actual bar. The lighting was harsh, but nothing he couldn’t deal with. He took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes as he leaned against the wall and let the coolness calm him down. Once he felt like his heart wasn’t going to burst out of his chest, he opened his eyes and pushed himself off of the wall. He could practically feel the bacteria crawling on him from the dirty wall, so he walked toward the sink and rolled up his sleeves far enough that he was sure they wouldn’t get wet. He turned on the water, piled soap in his hand, and began scrubbing all the way up to his elbows.

“Do you hold your dick with your forearms or something?” He heard a voice ask from beside him. He jumped, inhaling sharply as he turned to look at who was speaking.

He wasn’t disappointed.

The man beside him was taller than him with curls that nearly brushed the tops of his shoulders. They were wild, sticking up every which way but somehow he pulled it off. There were freckles over his cheeks and nose, which gave him an almost innocent look, even though - by the looks of him - that would be the last word Eddie would use to describe him. He looked like every guy that Eddie ever hated, but he also somehow looked just like Eddie’s type. One corner of his lips was pulled up into a small smirk, which only seemed to grow when Eddie didn’t answer.

“What?” He asked. He cleared his throat and looked down at his hands that were still under the running water instead of at Richie, cheeks a light pink as he turned off the water and pulled out some paper towels to dry himself off.

“You were washing your entire arm,” the man beside him chuckled, and Eddie glared in hopes of making his blush go down with a little bit of anger. It didn’t work.

“These bathrooms are filthy,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Excuse me if I want to be clean after walking out of here.”

Richie raised his hands in surrender, but breathed out a small laugh that told Eddie he was still way too amused about this whole situation. He shoved his sleeves down with a huff, bottom lip poking out just a little.

“Hey, that’s your prerogative,” Richie responded, starting the water in the sink next to Eddie and beginning to wash his hands, though not as intensely as Eddie had been doing just moments before. “You here to watch the band perform?” He asked.

Eddie was ready to go back out to Mike. He knew him, he didn’t have to worry about small talk, and he wouldn’t make fun of him for washing his arms all the way up to his elbows. 

“Yeah, kinda,” he responded, using the nail on his pointer finger to pick at the skin on the side of his thumb, a nervous habit he’d never been able to get rid of. “I’ve never really heard of the band, but my friend… he’s a fan, I guess? I don’t really remember him listening to them, but… he’s the one who dragged me here, so,” he shrugged a shoulder, letting his sentence trail off. Richie was already drying his hands with a paper towel, never taking his eyes off of Eddie. This only served to make the smaller boy more anxious, causing him to take a small step back and look just to the right of Richie’s face so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact anymore.

“He’s got good taste,” Richie smiled like he knew something Eddie didn’t, which made him frown. “What’s your name?”

“My name?” Eddie asked, blinking once as he looked at Richie once again. The taller man nodded and Eddie was almost pleased to note that it wasn’t the nod he usually got -- the get on with it, I’ve got better things to do nod -- but one that was almost encouraging. Kind. “Eddie,” he finally answered, smiling just a little bit up at him.

“I’m Richie.” He reached out a hand for Eddie to shake. Eddie quickly weighed the pros and cons. He usually made it a habit to avoid shaking anyone’s hand because he wasn’t sure if they were diseased or if they’d washed their hands after the last time they went to the bathroom or if they would be sweaty or hold his hand too tight, but --

Something outweighed those cons in Eddie’s mind. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but he reached out and clasped Richie’s hand in his own, giving it a small shake. Richie didn’t grip his hand too tightly, and he’d just seen him wash his hands, and his hands weren’t sweaty but they were pleasantly warm and --

Eddie let go with a blush.

“Nice to meet you,” he almost whispered. Richie’s answering smile was almost blinding.

“You too, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“That’s not my name,” Eddie mumbled, glaring up at him. Richie had been doing so well, but then he’d started with the nicknames and now Eddie was pretty sure he was just as annoying as he’d originally thought, especially when he started laughing.

“What, you don’t like Eddie Spaghetti?” Richie asked, and Eddie shook his head. “Well, why don’t you give me your number and we can talk about what I can call you?” 

Oh.

_ Oh. _

Eddie knew he should tell Richie no, that he had a boyfriend that he’d been with for almost six months now, but he didn’t see the harm in having a friend. Besides, for all Eddie knew, Richie was straight and just wanted to be friends. Eddie really didn’t see an issue.

“I’ll give you my number if you promise not to call me Eddie Spaghetti ever again,” Eddie bargained.

Richie inhaled through his teeth.

“‘Fraid I can’t promise that,” he said. “I think the name might stick around for a while.”

Eddie gave him his number anyway.

When he walked back out to Mike, he asked him what took him so long and why he was smiling like that, but he just shook his head and ordered himself the next drink.

“Long story. I’ll tell you later,” he promised him because he knew there was no way he would get away with not telling him what happened. This seemed to quell him curiosity for the time being. The bartender had just set Eddie’s drink in front of him when Mike checked the time on his phone and grabbed Eddie’s hand again.

“Come on, the band’s about to start,” he said, already pulling him toward the stage. Eddie laughed and quickly downed the shot once more before he set the glass down on the bar and finally allowed Mike to drag him up to the front. More people had arrived while he had been in the bathroom, it seemed, because they had to do some pushing in order to get to their spots by the stage.

“Jesus, Mike, how popular did you say they were?” Eddie had to raise his voice to be heard over the music. It was louder up here since they were standing closer to the speakers, and Eddie already knew he’d have a headache in the morning.

“Pretty popular around here,” Mike answered, also having to speak up. “Not popular enough to perform anywhere other than a few bars, but popular enough that they can bring a small crowd with them.”

Eddie nodded his head, opening his mouth to ask Mike what exactly this band’s name was  _ (because he didn’t know, he couldn’t remember, and he’d already told him three times that night)  _ when he saw it printed on the drum set. Orion’s Belt, was printed on there in white with three dots spread evenly above it, which Eddie supposed was meant to be Orion’s Belt. He laughed lightly, wondering whose idea that was.

The music stopped and there was a man’s voice coming over the speakers, speaking louder than necessary to introduce the band. Eddie didn’t hear any of the band members’ names or where they were from because he didn’t think that was something he needed to know in order to enjoy the music. He soon wished he had listened because out came a woman who stood behind the keyboard, one man sat behind the drums, and one came out with a guitar.

The last one -- the one with the guitar -- came out and Eddie thought his heart stopped. He knew that face. He knew it because he’d been talking to him not ten minutes before.

“Richie,” he breathed out. His cheeks flushed when Richie made eye contact with him and winked and then smirked like he knew just what he was doing as he made his way to the mic stand at the front of the stage. “Well, god damn,” Eddie laughed in disbelief, glancing over at Mike who was already looking at him.

“What was all that about?” Mike asked, nudging Eddie with his elbow because of course he’d caught that little interaction. Eddie shook his head and wondered why he was blushing. He barely knew Richie, and it’s not like he had a crush on him. 

Before he could think on it for much longer, Eddie heard Richie turn to his drummer and count him off and then Richie was strumming on his guitar and the drummer was pounding out a beat that sounded a little familiar to him. He noticed that the girl wasn’t playing the keyboard, but a bass guitar that she must have stored back there. Then a voice was singing, low and raspy, and Eddie -- Eddie decided within the first three notes that this was a band he had to listen to more often. Richie was singing, and his eyes closed as he sang.

_ “I’ve been roaming around, always looking down at all I see. Painted faces, fill the places I can’t reach. You know that I could use somebody.” _

Eddie loved the song, but the thing he loved most about it was how much Richie put into singing it, playing it,  _ performing _ it. There was a guitar solo, and Eddie was grinning and dancing along with Mike. He was enjoying himself, and he didn’t even have to worry about what everyone around him was thinking because for that moment, he didn’t care.

The band played for about an hour and by the end, Eddie was sweaty and panting from dancing, but he was still smiling. He could see sweat glistening on Richie’s body as well from how much he’d been singing, playing, and dancing on stage. 

“That’s all we got,” Richie said breathlessly into the mic, eyes looking over the crowd once again before finally landing on Eddie. 

“We’ll b-be back next weekend,” the drummer spoke into his mic, and Richie gave him a thumbs up because he’d almost forgotten to mention that. With another goodnight, the band was leaving the stage and Eddie was giggling as music started playing from the speakers again.

“Holy shit,” he said, looking up at Mike again. Mike smiled and nodded his head, taking Eddie’s hand in his and leading him back to the bar. He needed a drink, and he knew Eddie needed one too. Not alcoholic after all that; no, he needed some water to cool down.

“They’re good, right?” Mike asked as he ordered them both a glass of water. 

“Holy shit,” Eddie repeated, standing on the bar beneath one of the tall seats so that he could lift himself into it. “They’re so good. You know I don’t usually like rock music, but --  _ holy shit.” _

Mike laughed and shook his head fondly, thanking the bartender when they got their waters and sliding one over to Eddie.

“I told you you’d like them!”

Eddie didn’t answer this time, pulling out his phone to check if he got any messages from Jake. He didn’t see one from his boyfriend, but he did see three from an unsaved number. One from a little over an hour ago, one from five minutes before, and one that came through just as he pulled out his phone.

_ hey it’s richie _

_ what’d u think? _

_ if u stick around for a bit, i’ll buy u a drink _

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at that and he quickly texted back an  _ “I’m already at the bar.”  _ before he pocketed his phone again.

“Get a text from Jake?” Mike asked, voice sounding tenser than before. Eddie knew Mike didn’t like Jake one bit. He thought he didn’t treat Eddie right, but Eddie wouldn’t hear it. Jake was nice enough. Maybe things weren’t as fun as they were when they’d first met, but relationships weren’t supposed to be fun forever, right?

“No, from, uh… from Richie,” Eddie replied, sipping from the straw in his glass of water as Mike raised a brow and looked at him knowingly.

“From Richie?” He asked with a small laugh. “Richie Tozier?” When Eddie nodded, Mike started laughing hard enough that he had to put his head down in his hand for a moment. “Jesus, Eddie, it took you a whole month to even let me shake your hand and you’ve already given Richie your number?” He asked, not unkindly. He was more surprised that Eddie had it in him than anything. Eddie shrugged a shoulder shyly.

“He was nice enough. I met him in the bathroom before they performed,” he explained, looking toward the stage in hopes of seeing Richie come toward them. No such luck.

“Oh, so that’s why you came back looking all happy,” Mike grinned, nudging Eddie once more. “I’ve heard he can be kind of a trashmouth. I’m surprised you liked him enough to give him your number.” Eddie shrugged again, smiling softly.

“He’s funny. Sometimes,” he said. “He’d make a good friend, I think. I can’t just bother you and Stan all the time. Gotta have some variety,” he joked, and Mike rolled his eyes fondly.

Five minutes later, Eddie and Mike were so caught up in a debate about which Batman was better -- Eddie was on team Christian Bale but Mike argued that Ben Affleck might be an even better choice for the modern-day Batman -- that he had almost forgotten that Richie was supposed to be coming out and meeting him. He’d forgotten until there was a body in the seat on the other side of him and a voice butting into their conversation. 

_ (Eddie hated people interrupting his conversations, but he didn’t really mind when it was Richie.) _

“Did I hear someone say Batman?” Richie asked, smiling brightly at Eddie before he was ordering himself a drink.

“We were just talking about which Batman was better, Christian Bale or Ben Affleck,” Eddie filled Richie in, hoping that Richie didn’t think he was a nerd because he liked superheroes. Richie scoffed, which made Eddie smile shyly, almost apologetically.

“Everyone knows Superman is better,” he said, and Eddie’s jaw dropped in a gasp.

“No way! Batman is so much better,” he argued, glaring at the newest member of their little group.

“Batman doesn’t even have any powers! His only power is that he’s rich,” Richie said, the faintest of smiles on his lips as he argued with Eddie. “Superman has basically every power to ever exist. That makes him better.”

Eddie shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’re an idiot,” he muttered, and Richie couldn’t help but tilt his head back in a laugh. “At least Mike agrees with me! Don’t you, Mike?” He asked, turning to face his other friend. “Isn’t Batman better?”

“Um,” Mike started, smiling slightly. “I actually think Richie has a point. I love Batman, but Superman is way better.”

Eddie huffed and poked his bottom lip out in a pout only to turn it into a glare when Richie pinched his cheek lightly. He swatted Richie’s hand away.

“Come on, Eds, don’t pout! Batman is pretty awesome. I’ve just always been a Superman man myself,” he said proudly.

“Don’t call me Eds,” Eddie glared. Richie just laughed.

By the time Eddie thought to check his phone again, it was nearing two in the morning. They had been talking for a few hours by then and they hadn’t run out of things to talk about yet. The three of them carried easy conversation, laughing as Richie told them exaggerated stories with wild gestures and different accents. Eddie made fun of him for them, but Richie took it all in stride.

The first thing Eddie saw on his phone was the time, 1:58am. The second thing he saw were the three missed calls and seven texts from Jake, each one getting angrier the more he sent. Eddie’s heart jumped up into his throat and he quickly opened his texts to say  _ “Sorry, didn’t hear my phone go off. I’ll be home in 20.” _

“I gotta be getting home,” Eddie said, quickly sliding off of the stool and grabbing his jacket. “I had fun tonight.” Richie frowned and turned in his seat to better look at Eddie, whose cheeks were flushed and eyes panicked as he checked his pockets to make sure he had everything he’d come with.

“Yeah, I’m… glad you came,” Richie said slowly. “Is everything alright?” He asked. He caught Mike’s eye over Eddie’s shoulder and saw that the other man was shaking his head as if to tell Richie not to ask, and Richie nodded just slightly to let him know he understood. “You should come by next weekend.”

Eddie forced a small smile on his lips and nodded his head.

“Yeah, I’ll - I’ll see what I can do,” he said, putting a hand on Mike’s shoulder and standing on his toes to kiss his cheek. “I’ll text you later, Mike,” he said softly, then he waved at Richie

_ (who was  _ not _ a little disappointed that Eddie didn’t kiss his cheek as well) _

before he was rushing out and heading in the direction of his house. If he walked fast, he’d make it home within fifteen minutes or so.

Once he was gone, Richie turned to Mike, still frowning.

“What was all that about?” He asked, more than a little confused over how quickly their night had ended.

“It’s a long story,” Mike sighed, shaking his head as he took another drink. “His boyfriend… doesn’t like for him to be out late.”

“Boyfriend?” Richie asked, his heart plummeting. He was so sure that he and Eddie had had a connection that could have led to something more. This was the first he was hearing of said boyfriend.

“Yeah. His name’s Jake,” Mike rolled his eyes, but it wasn’t like when he rolled his eyes at Eddie. No, this was an annoyed roll of the eyes, one that told Richie exactly what Mike thought of him. “I don’t like him,” he said, just in case Richie hadn’t gotten the message.

“Why not?” Richie asked curiously.

Mike sighed then, running a hand over his face.

“It’s a long story, and it’s not really mine to tell,” he half-explained. “I have a feeling you’ll be hanging with us a lot more, so that means you’ll be meeting him.” Mike gave him a look that made Richie think maybe he didn’t want to meet Jake. “When you do, you’ll understand why I don’t like him.”

Richie didn’t know Jake. He hadn’t met him yet, and all he knew was what Mike had told him and how Eddie had reacted when seeing what Richie could only imagine were missed calls and messages. That was all he knew, but he already didn’t like him.

Not one bit.


	2. ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Love Me Blue playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/22ajf2ggtih5bckduerijyq7a/playlist/52v8yCE3DmfKl9kTsn7zbL)
> 
> [My Tumblr](greywatertrashmouth.tumblr.com)

Things worked out, in Eddie’s opinion. When he had gotten home that night, Jake had been angry that he was out later than expected.

“I was hanging out with Mike and Richie and I lost track of time,” Eddie had explained calmly, if a bit meekly, and Jake’s whole demeanor changed from angry to almost sickly sweet.

“Oh? Who’s Richie?” He’d asked, smiling at Eddie in a way that sent a shiver down his spine. He hated the way Richie’s name sounded falling past Jake’s lips, and he almost regretted telling him about his new friend.

“Just a friend,” Eddie said quietly, hoping that would be the end of that.

“You’ve never mentioned him before.”

“I…” Eddie trailed off, looking down at the ground. The way he was feeling at that moment reminded him too much of how it felt to be scolded by his mother when he had been out running and playing with the other boys. It was humiliating; he felt so  _ exposed  _ standing there in front of Jake. He wondered, not for the first time, if this feeling was typical in a relationship. “I just met him tonight.”

“Oh, did you?” Jake asked. Eddie couldn’t help but notice how much bigger he looked standing with his feet apart and his arms crossed over his chest. He was smiling, but there was an anger in his eyes that made Eddie want to run and hide somewhere -- somewhere safer.

“Yeah,” he whispered, shifting his weight backward in order to get farther away from Jake without being too noticeable about it.

“I’ll need to meet him,” Jake said, and Eddie’s brows furrowed in confusion. Of all the things he’d expected to hear, that wasn’t one of them. Jake was known for having a jealous streak and often didn’t want Eddie to hang out with other men -- or women, for that matter, even though Eddie had never had romantic feelings toward any woman. It had taken Eddie more than two weeks to convince Jake that Mike wasn’t a threat to their relationship. He’d gotten lucky with that, and the same with Stan. Eddie had been half expecting Jake to forbid him from seeing or speaking to him again.

“Okay,” Eddie agreed. He would take what he could get, and if Jake was willing to  _ try,  _ then Eddie wasn’t going to argue. “I’ll -- I’ll ask Richie and Mike to dinner on Friday. We can go to the diner you like so much.”

“No Mike,” Jake said, and his word was law. Eddie would have felt better if Mike was there, but this was okay too. Richie would be there.

“No Mike,” Eddie repeated in a whisper. “Dinner Friday night with Richie then.”

As excited as Eddie was, he put off asking Richie for as long as he could. They had been texting almost nonstop, and Eddie sometimes caught Jake glaring at him if he giggled at something Richie had said. Eddie also noticed that Jake had been touching him more than he had in months. They had sex almost every night, and Jake always made sure to mark him up so when Eddie went to work the next day, Stan would give him stares full of pity and Eddie would blush as he put on his apron and went to work.

It was Wednesday by the time Eddie mentioned dinner to Richie.

_ so when am i gonna meet this bf of urs _

**_Actually, he wanted me to invite you for dinner on Friday._ **

_ oh, so you’ve been talking about me? _

**_Shut up, Richie. Do you want to?_ **

_ yea dinner sounds good _

**_Meet at Lucy’s at 6pm Friday?_ **

_ i’ll be there _

_ do u think he’s jealous? _

**_No one in their right mind would be jealous of you, Trashmouth._ **

_ someone as handsome, funny, and talented as me? he’d be an idiot NOT to be jealous, babe _

**_Don’t call me babe._ **

_ aw, come on eds, you know you love it _

**_Do I?_ **

Their banter continued back and forth until Jake had come home and demanded Eddie’s attention, so their conversation abruptly ended much as their night did just a few days before. Richie was learning to dislike Jake more and more every day.

See, things worked out in Eddie’s mind. By the time Friday came around, he was excited because it had been so long since he and Jake had gone out and he was starting to get a glimmer of hope that maybe things could go back to the way they were before. Knowing he would be seeing Richie again made him feel a mixture of nerves and excitement. It had been six days since he’d last seen Richie, and though they’d been talking that entire time, he wondered if - upon seeing him - Richie would decide he didn’t actually want to be Eddie’s friend.

He really tried to look nice. Even if they were only going to a diner they used to frequent, Eddie wanted this night to go well. He firmly believed that the first step to a less stressful mindset was to look nice. If he looked nice, it was one less thing he had to be worried about. As he buttoned the last button of his shirt, he caught himself wondering if Richie would like this shirt or if he should change. He wondered if Richie would say anything about the fading marks on his neck. Cheeks flushed,he shook those thoughts away.

Since Eddie couldn’t drive himself, Jake drove them to the diner. The car ride was silent, but Eddie was grateful for that since he was getting to be a bit too nervous to carry a conversation. He bounced twice in his seat as Jake parked the car, and he got out quickly. He had made his way toward the door when Jake got out of the car and said, “wait for me.” Eddie blushed again and nodded his head, making his way back to the car while wondering how he could’ve been so rude to leave his boyfriend behind. He had just gotten too excited to meet with Richie again.

“Sorry,” he said softly. Jake nodded his head, shutting the car door and not so much as looking at Eddie as they walked up toward the diner. Once they were inside, Eddie spotted Richie almost immediately and grinned as he led Jake over there.

“Eds!” Richie exclaimed, eyes lighting up when he spotted Eddie walking toward him.

“I told you not to call me that,” Eddie grumbled, though anyone would have been able to tell that there was hardly any heat packed behind his words. Richie shrugged a shoulder, still smiling wide. Richie had gotten them a booth by one of the windows, the seats red and the table white. The whole diner was very 50s-esque, and it reminded Eddie of one of the movies his mother used to watch when he was younger. He could never remember the name of it, but he could so vividly remember a scene where a teenaged couple had gone to a diner much like this one and shared a vanilla milkshake on their first date. He was almost jealous that he’d never had something like that.

Richie sat on one side of the booth, then Eddie slid in on the other side with Jake right beside him. He felt rather cornered when he was trapped like this, but Jake had told him he preferred to sit on the outside, so Eddie sat there anyway. It wasn’t so bad with Richie sitting right across from him.

“You must be Jake,” Richie said, glancing over at Eddie’s boyfriend. The atmosphere felt tense, awkward, but Eddie was desperate to make this night go as smoothly as possible, so he never once let his smile falter.

“Yeah,” Jake mumbled, looking down at the menu. He didn’t look up at Richie as he spoke, and Eddie had to give an apologetic smile to his friend because of the rude behavior coming from his boyfriend.

“This is Jake,” he introduced, resting one of his hands on Jake’s arm with a smile. “Jake, this is -- this is Richie.” This time, Jake glanced up for just a moment and nodded as a sad excuse for an introduction. The waitress came around and asked them what they wanted to drink, and Eddie ordered himself a milkshake because that’s what he got every time he came here, no matter how cold it was outside. “I think I might get a burger,” he said, reading through the menu as Jake sat silently. He wondered why Jake would even ask to have dinner with Richie when he wouldn’t put any effort in to get to know him. Jake looked down at Eddie’s legs, then let his eyes rake up his body until he was looking at his face.

“I don’t think you should get a burger,” Jake decided. Eddie’s smile faltered just slightly and he didn’t dare look at Richie for his reaction. Jake made little side comments like these fairly often, but Eddie knew it was just because he had his best interests at heart. He had told Eddie that he wanted someone to be proud of, and if Eddie gained too much weight, he wouldn’t be able to show him off like he wanted to. Jake had often told him that no one could love him any more than he could, and at first, it had warmed Eddie’s heart to think that Jake loved him so much that he thought no one could possibly love him more, but lately it made him feel empty, almost. It didn’t feel like he meant it to be kind; it felt like he meant it to remind Eddie that he was too much to deal with, that no one would ever want him around, that Jake was all he would ever have. If Jake’s kind of love was the most love Eddie would ever feel, then things felt rather hopeless.

“Right,” Eddie whispered, clearing his throat as he looked at the menu once again. He hoped his cheeks weren’t as red as he thought they were, but he was so humiliated that Jake had pointed out one of his flaws in front of Richie that he couldn’t help but have his cheeks heat up. A voice in his mind reminded him that this blush wasn’t like the blush he got with Richie. This blush felt bad, sinful,  _ wrong,  _ but when he blushed with Richie, it was all soft, warm, happy. 

He wondered when he started comparing Jake and Richie so much.

He wondered what that meant.

“I think the burger looks delicious,” Richie said, moving his glare at Jake to a soft gaze at Eddie. He smiled -- just as wide as before, if a little tenser now -- and Eddie forced a tiny smile on his face as well. “I think you should get it.”

Eddie looked up at Jake, then at Richie again. When the waitress came back to take their order, Eddie ordered himself a burger and pretended not to see the cold stare that Jake was giving him.

He would worry about that later.

“Richie’s in a band,” Eddie brought up when their conversation lulled again. “They’re really good. We saw them perform last weekend.” Eddie had really enjoyed hearing them play. He loved seeing how natural Richie seemed up there, interacting with the other band members and the crowd, singing and playing guitar. He had been looking forward to Saturday all week so he could see them again.

“Is he?” Jake asked. Now that they didn’t have menus to distract them, Jake had to look at the two, and somehow that made things worse to Eddie. “What do you play?” This time, he spoke to Richie, and Eddie considered it a small success.

“Guitar,” Richie responded. Eddie could recall last week when he had mentioned how much he loved the performance. Richie hadn’t been able to shut up about his bandmates -- Bill and Beverly, he had learned they were named -- or about his guitar -- Lucille, he called her -- for nearly half an hour. Now, his response was short and simple, and Eddie almost missed hearing his voice.

He’d never admit that to Richie. No, he preferred telling him to  _ shut up _ , or as Richie told him Beverly said,  _ beep beep. _

“And he sings,” Eddie added, smiling at Richie to try and get his new friend to relax a little. He was so eager for them to make a good impression.

“Eddie used to play piano,” Jake pointed out. Eddie smiled because his boyfriend remembered even though he hadn’t played in months, and he wondered if he brought it up because he wanted to brag about Eddie a little or if he wanted to prove that he knew Eddie better than Richie did.

“Did you?” Richie asked, eyes lighting up in surprise as he looked at Eddie. “You never told me that, Eds! What made you stop?”

Eddie blushed at the attention he got, giggling quietly at how easily Richie’s demeanor changed from when he was talking to Jake to when he was talking to Eddie. He didn’t want to bring up that Jake had forced him to sell his piano when he’d moved in with him, so he shrugged.

“I don’t know. I just didn’t have the time to practice,” he said quietly.

“I’m sure Bev would let you use hers if you want. She’s just got a keyboard, not an actual piano, but she’s  _ amazing  _ on it,” Richie informed, not taking his eyes off of Eddie. He knew if he looked at Jake, his mood would go down again, and he didn’t want to waste any time he had with Eddie by being in a bad mood.

“Really?” Eddie asked hopefully, sitting up a bit straighter as he thought of playing piano for the first time in far too long.

“Yeah, definitely,” Richie grinned. “I’d like to hear you play.”

“I’m -- I’m not that great,” Eddie said humbly. He’d had lessons since he was a little boy, but once he had practically begun teaching himself, his mother stopped paying for them. It had been so long since he’d last practiced that he feared he’d forgotten everything he’d learned. “I used to write songs, I guess? They were never any good.”

“Well, I’ll be damned! You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you, Spaghetti Man?” Richie laughed in disbelief. Eddie glared.

“That’s not even remotely  _ close  _ to my name, Trashmouth,” Eddie said. Richie raised his hands in surrender, his laughter still filling the entire diner with joy, Eddie thought.

It was only five minutes later when the waitress brought their food. Eddie had been so worried all day that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast that morning. Because of that, as soon as his plate was set down in front of him, he was shoving three fries into his mouth.

“Slow down, Eddie,” Jake spoke up that time, not a hint of amusement in his voice. Eddie nodded his head and chewed slower, looking down at his food.

Richie reached out and took a fry from Eddie’s plate when Jake wasn’t looking. When Eddie looked up at him and caught his eye, Richie winked and Eddie couldn’t help but laugh quietly.

“What’s so funny?” Jake asked. Eddie shook his head.

“Nothing, I was just… thinking.” Jake didn’t look like he quite believed Eddie, but that was another thing that he would worry about later. Now was the time to be happy he was with Richie.

And Jake. Of course, he was with Jake.

By the time their night came to an end, Jake had said a grand total of two more sentences and Richie had put all of his attention on Eddie in order to keep himself from snapping on Jake at any given moment. He hated how Jake treated Eddie. He treated him like he was disposable, like he wasn’t  _ worth  _ any of the work that went into relationships. Richie couldn’t help but wonder what exactly drew Eddie to him. He wanted to yell and scream and tell Jake he’s a fucking idiot for taking someone as cute, funny, sweet, soft,  _ strong  _ as Eddie for granted.

A tiny voice in the back of Richie’s mind told him that he could treat Eddie how he deserved to be treated. He could give him the happiness he needed, and he would allow Eddie to eat all the burgers he wanted. 

He didn’t think he’d ever hated someone as much as he hated Jake, and he’d known some assholes in his life.

“I’m glad you could come,” Eddie told Richie as they stood outside the diner. Jake had gone directly back to the car, but both of them knew that they were being watched. Eddie had that tight, anxious feeling back in his chest because he didn’t know what to expect when he got home. 

“Yeah, it was… fun,” Richie answered. Eddie knew something was off in his voice, but he couldn’t tell what it was. He only hoped that Richie still wanted to be his friend after tonight. Sure, there had been some rough patches, but he had thought it went well. He hoped Richie felt the same. “You’re coming to the concert tomorrow, aren’t you?” He asked. If Eddie wasn’t mistaken -- or projecting -- he could have sworn that he heard a bit of worry hidden behind Richie’s voice.

It was probably nothing.

“Yeah, I should be there with Stan and Mike,” Eddie assured, nodding his head. Richie’s smile grew wider only to falter when a horn blared in their direction. “I, uh -- I should go,” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Richie whispered. He took a step closer

_ (Eddie’s heart didn’t stutter over its next beat -- no way) _

and wrapped one arm around Eddie’s waist, the other around his shoulders, to pull him in for a hug. “Call me if you need anything,” he offered, his voice suddenly more serious than before. Eddie exhaled shakily at the prospect of what that could mean -- what Richie could  _ know -- _ but he allowed the hug, wrapping his own arms around Richie’s body.

He didn’t even know Richie could be that serious.

He supposed there was a lot he didn’t know about Richie, but he thought maybe the same could be said for him.

The car ride home was just as silent as the ride there, but Eddie didn’t like it this time. Before, he’d had something to look forward to if he could just make it through the ride, but now he had nothing but worry on his mind and in his heart, worry for what was awaiting him at home. Jake was giving nothing away with the way he was acting, and Eddie couldn’t see his face well enough in the darkness to be able to tell what look he was giving the road ahead of them.

When they got home, they kicked off their shoes beside the door and Eddie quietly walked into the kitchen to fix himself a glass of water. His hands trembled as he sipped at his drink, made worse only when Jake walked into the kitchen with him.

“So, Richie,” Jake started, almost as if he expected Eddie to continue speaking. He didn’t. “I don’t like him.” Eddie set his glass down on the counter, eyes wide as he looked at Jake.

“You don’t?” He asked shakily. He knew that if Jake didn’t like someone, he wouldn’t be able to see them unless he went behind Jake’s back, but he didn’t want to know what would happen if he was caught.

“No, and I don’t appreciate being  _ lied  _ to, Eddie.” This caught Eddie off guard, especially how harsh Jake’s glare was. He couldn’t remember lying to him, but maybe he had somehow without realizing it and he got caught. “‘We’re just friends,’ my ass. All those nicknames, that  _ hug  _ before we left, the way he was looking at you, I  _ know  _ that look, Eddie. He wants to fuck you. You’ve probably already let him, haven’t you?”

Eddie shook his head quickly, placing both hands on the counter behind him as his knees weakened and threatened to give out on him. His inhaler came to mind, even though he hadn’t used it in four years now, and he wondered why things like that popped into his mind at the most inopportune times.

“No, Jake -- I love you, you know that. I would  _ never --” _ Eddie cut himself off, still shaking his head. “No, Richie’s just my friend.”

\------

Really, Eddie should have known better. Once Jake got an idea in his mind, there was no changing his mind, no matter how outrageous the claim. The night ended in glass -- broken by being thrown against the wall -- and for a minute, Eddie thought that Jake might actually hurt  _ him,  _ and that thought petrified him. He’d never been so scared of someone else before. His voice was deep and booming as he yelled accusations at Eddie, calling him things he hadn’t heard since high school.

As soon as he was done yelling -- Eddie would call it a conversation, but it wasn’t much of one since he didn’t get to say much -- Jake left Eddie alone in the kitchen to clean up the mess.

He knelt down on the ground, careful of where he placed his knees so he wouldn’t get cut, and slowly began picking up the larger pieces of glass. His hands shook worse than ever, and the tears in his eyes were making it hard to see. Eventually, he couldn’t stand to keep going and he closed his hand around the glass he held and ducked his head down, allowing the quietest of sobs to fall past his lips. He knew Jake wouldn’t be able to hear him because of the running water in his shower, but he still bit his lip to muffle the sound.

He wasn’t sure how he had ended up here in his life. When he was younger, he knew he would grow up to leave and leave Derry, find someone nice who would treat him so much better than his mother had growing up, and have a happy life.

As it turns out, none of those things happened, and he had already graduated from college. He couldn’t even find a decent fucking job besides the one at the bakery. 

He was losing hope that he would ever achieve the things he’d always wanted to, and he couldn’t even feel safe and happy at home. When did things go to shit?

Once he had finally managed to clean up the rest of the glass and the blood from his hand 

_ (he had apparently clenched the glass too tightly and cut his hand and -- and it stung so badly but Eddie couldn’t bring himself to focus on it) _

with two band-aids covering his palm, he picked up his phone. His finger hovered over Richie’s contact name and he listened carefully -- so, so carefully -- to make sure the water was still running. When he was sure he was safe, he called Richie.

It wasn’t quite how he’d expected his first phone call with Richie to go.

There was an answer within three rings, and Eddie was so relieved that he almost let out another sob, but he managed to bite his lip before it escaped.

“Eds?” Richie’s voice came. Eddie sniffled.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he said -- oh, so quietly. His voice was shaky and weak, but it was there, and Richie was there, and he thought maybe he might make it through the night.

“Jesus, you sound like shit,” Richie tried to joke, but Eddie could hear the worry even through the phone. “Is everything alright?”

Eddie breathed out a laugh and shook his head, wiping his nose on the dish towel he still held in his hand. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he whispered. “Don’t worry about me.”

“If you say so,” Richie said slowly. He didn’t know exactly why Eddie was being so quiet, but he thought he might have an idea. He had to stop himself from asking where Eddie lived so he could come get him and maybe -- no, definitely -- beat the shit out of an asshole he hadn’t even known for three hours. “I was just working on something.”

“Oh, do you -- do you need me to let you go?” Eddie asked, dread in his stomach at the thought of hanging up on Richie and leaving himself alone for the night. 

“No!” Richie’s voice came fast and loud, making Eddie wince but also giggle. “I mean, you don’t -- you don’t have to. I was writing a song, actually,” he said, and Eddie took a seat on the couch. Now that he wasn’t so on edge, he felt so tired, and he wanted nothing more than to sleep.

“You should play it for me sometime,” he smiled softly.

“You know I will, baby,” Richie answered, the pet name seemingly slipping out unnoticed. Eddie blushed deeply and smiled again. That was when he heard a squeak from the bathroom as the water turned off, and he tensed up again.

“Shit, I should go,” he breathed, speaking faster than he had any other time on the phone. “I’ll… see you tomorrow.” He hoped, anyway.

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Richie whispered. “Sleep well, Eds.”

Eddie whispered a quiet  _ goodnight  _ and then hung up. Within an hour, he was in pajamas and curled up in bed as far away from Jake as he could get. The room was so dark that Eddie couldn’t see his hand if he put it up in front of his face, the silence was deafening, but Eddie knew that he’d be okay if he could just make it to tomorrow.

He closed his eyes.

His hands stopped shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos stay on the phone with Eddie.  
> Your comments buy him burgers.


	3. iii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be up a little slower than usual.  
> things are pretty tough lately.  
> promise i'll be writing a little bit every day and i'll hopefully have the next chapter out to you within a week.  
> love y'all <3

Eddie didn’t make it the next night.

Richie performed, putting all of his heart into his music even though his mind was off somewhere else, distracted. He hadn’t seen Eddie before the concert, but he told himself that maybe Eddie was running a little late. Maybe he stepped outside for a second when Richie was looking. Maybe, maybe, maybe, but he couldn’t make himself believe any of them after the phone call last night. Richie had texted him throughout the day like he usually did, sending Eddie pictures of things that reminded him of him, sending jokes he’d overheard or came up with himself, even once sending an  _ are u okay?  _ but he never got an answer.

When they walked off the stage, Richie barely managed to put his guitar in its case before he was rushing out toward the bar. There, he found Mike with another man -- Stan, he supposed -- but no Eddie.

“Hey,” he said breathlessly, taking the seat next to Mike. “Where’s Eddie?”

Mike glanced over at Stan, who gave him a look that Richie couldn’t quite decipher.

“He, uh… He wasn’t feeling well,” Stan said because he had a feeling Mike would tell Richie things that Eddie would rather people not know. “He texted us before we came.”

Eddie hadn’t responded to Richie, though. Maybe he had done something… no, after their call last night, Richie was sure he and Eddie were closer than ever, but maybe he was wrong. 

“Cut the bullshit,” Richie almost snapped. He caught himself before his words got too harsh, but there was an edge to them that hadn’t been there before. “He called last night. I think…. I think he was --”

“Crying?” Mike finished for him, nodding his head. Richie noticed that this time, it wasn’t water in his glass. “Yeah. I told you, Jake’s a bastard.”

“I know. I met him,” Richie said, making Mike and Stan both look at him.

“Did you?” Mike asked.

“Yeah, just -- just yesterday,” Richie answered. “He made these comments about Eddie’s weight, you know? And he barely looked at us. And then Eddie’s call…. Have either of you seen him? Is he okay?” Richie wasn’t sure when the last time he felt so worried, so concerned for someone else was, but he couldn’t bring himself to try to remember. Not when Eddie may be hurt.

“I saw him earlier,” Stan said, nodding his head once. “He was at work. Looked pretty shaken up, but he wouldn’t talk about it or anything.”

“Work? Where does he work?” Richie asked. He could have seen Eddie today if he had only known where he worked, but he wouldn’t miss out on his chance tomorrow. 

“The bakery just down the street,” Stan responded, and Richie filed that bit of information away to remember later. “He works on Monday from eleven to five,” he pointed out. Richie wondered if he was being so obvious that he didn’t even have to ask.

“Listen, Rich,” Mike said, turning to face him so he could make his point clear. “I’ve tried to talk to Eddie about Jake more times than I can count, but he won’t listen to me. I don’t know what that asshole’s done to him, but that -- that’s not Eddie.” Stan placed a comforting and on Mike’s shoulder, and Richie could have sworn he felt his heart crack just a little. “Eddie was a little  _ asshole,  _ but we loved him anyway, you know? He’s small, but boy, he’s got some fire in him.” Mike chuckled and shook his head, though Richie wasn’t sure there was much humor behind it. “I think maybe that fire’s still there, but Jake’s doing everything he can to put it out.”

Richie thought that might be a good way to put it. He hadn’t known Eddie for long, but he thought that sometimes he could see a little bit of that fire. It wasn’t out there, bright enough that everyone could see it, all the time, but it was there and it came out when Richie made a shitty joke in one of his Voices and he told him to shut up. He saw that fire when Eddie would shove him for being annoying, or when he was told not to call him Eds.

He saw that fire.

He did. He saw it, and he wanted more of it.

“He was nice at first,” Stan said, pressing his lips into a thin line. Richie could only imagine how guilty Eddie’s friends must feel for not noticing sooner, soon enough to get Eddie out of this situation. No one could be sure if Eddie would make it out of this, and if he did, they didn’t know if he would ever be the same. “He and Eddie couldn’t keep their hands off each other. He was always cracking jokes, and -- and we could practically see the hearts in Eddie’s eyes when he talked about him.”

Stan took a second to sigh, take a drink of Mike’s drink without asking -- Richie knew that feeling because he had that friendship with Bev -- before he continued.

“Eddie moved in with him two months in which was… not like Eddie. He’s not one to dive head first into things. He’s brave, but he’s smart about it.” Stan breathed out another chuckle and shook his head. “Jake changed after that. He tried to cut Eddie off from me and Mike, but we wouldn’t let him. He almost made Eddie drop out of school because there was a guy in one of his classes he didn’t like, he made him get rid of his piano --”

“Wait, what?” Richie asked, frown deepening.

“Yeah. Eddie used to play every day,” Stan said, smiling in the kind of way that one did if they were remembering a pleasant memory. “He was  _ amazing.  _ I swear you could set a piece of music in front of that kid and he’d play it within an hour.”

“Jake told me Eddie used to play piano,” Richie said, voice quiet as he thought about all the little things that he might have missed because of his own obliviousness. “Eddie said he just didn’t have the time to play anymore. I didn’t even think…” Richie trailed off and rested his elbow on the bar, then put his head in his hand. “Jesus.”

“Yeah,” Stan agreed.

_ “Jesus.” _

“Yeah,” Mike piped up this time. “Fucking bastard. I tried to tell you.”

“Has he ever…” Richie trailed off, not sure if he could finish that sentence.

“Hit him?” Mike asked, waiting for Richie to swallow hard and nod before he answered. “Not that I know of. I like to think I’d know if it got that far, but truth is… I don’t know if I would.”

Richie hated the fear he felt in his chest. He needed to see Eddie and know he was okay.

 

\-------

 

It had been a Tuesday morning when Jake first walked into the bakery Eddie worked. It was newly opened, and Eddie was so beyond proud of it because it had been one of his best friends that opened it. Mike and Eddie both helped, but the bakery was Stan’s. It had been his idea, his design, and his recipes.

Well, all Stan’s recipes except for the coconut cupcakes. Those were Eddie’s specialty, so he was in charge of baking a new batch every morning. Eddie would be lying if he said he didn’t like it, but it wasn’t the job he wanted to have forever. Stan loved it there,  _ thrived  _ there, but Eddie had a dream to work in a hospital, maybe. He’d wanted to work in pediatrics, and that had been what he studied in college, but jobs were hard to come by these days, so Eddie was forced to take what he could get.

Luckily, he got a job where he worked with his best friend.

In Derry, they got many familiar faces -- faces that Eddie had grown up around. Not many people moved to Derry and very few left, so the faces he’d seen all his life were the ones he saw every day at their bakery. This held true for Jake. When he walked in, Eddie thought maybe he looked familiar, like maybe they’d gone to school together, but Eddie had been graduated from high school for three years and hadn’t seen this man in all three, so his name was escaping him.

“Eddie?” He asked, and Eddie drew his attention to the man. He had to admit he was attractive in a way that anyone could notice when he walked down the street, meaning he was attractive in a conventional way. 

“Yeah,” Eddie answered, his voice cracking. He blushed and cleared his throat before he tried again. “Yeah, that’s -- that’s me. I’m Eddie.”

“Shit, I haven’t seen you in  _ years,”  _ Jake had grinned, and it was that smile that reminded Eddie exactly who he was talking to. He had had a class with him his junior year -- when Jake was a senior -- Chemistry, he thought, though he couldn’t be sure. It was definitely a science class because they met in the lab more often than not. Jake had been his lab partner -- hopeless when it came to science -- so had copied Eddie’s paper more often than not. Eddie didn’t like having his paper cheated off of, but he kept his mouth shut because Jake was incredibly cute and older than him. Eddie knew better than to complain when it came to people older than him. Jake wasn’t that bad of a lab partner anyway; he tried to help where he could.

“Jake!” Eddie’s eyes lit up when he remembered his name. “It has been a while. Where’d you run off to?”

“Ah, I went to school up in New York,” Jake walked up to the counter. There were displays on either side of the small counter, showcasing all of their treats and Eddie was supposed to stand behind the counter and handle all transactions. He preferred to be in the back baking like Stan did most of the time, but he could handle this.

They talked for hours, it seemed, and before Jake left, Eddie had given him his number. 

That was the day, the decision, the mistake, that started it all.

Eddie was reminded of that feeling when he saw Richie walked through the door, the bell tinkling as it was opened and shut again. That feeling was exactly why Eddie almost flinched upon seeing him. He was reminded of the last time he’d met someone like this and just how badly it had turned out.

“Eds!” Richie greeted just like he did every other time he saw him. Eddie pushed away the memories of Jake and smiled. 

“Hey, Rich,” he said, bending over just enough that he could place his forearms on the counter and get a better look at Richie. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“Well, you wouldn’t text me back, so I thought I’d come by and see if you hated me yet,” Richie joked, but Eddie was sure there was a hint of something else, something more serious, hiding behind his tone.

“I’ve always hated you,” Eddie deadpanned, but Richie’s smile never faltered. “How’d you even find out where I worked?”

“I have my ways,” Richie winked. Eddie rolled his eyes, thinking that maybe he didn’t mind having Richie hanging around. “So what’s your specialty?”

“Mine or just in general?” Eddie asked, standing up straight again and stepping to the side to stand behind one of the displays.

“Yours, of course,” Richie answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I bake the coconut cupcakes fresh every morning,” Eddie smiled proudly, opening up the display so he could pull out one of the cupcakes before Richie had even asked for one. He might have hated coconut for all Eddie knew, but he just got excited.

“Whoa there, Eddie, maybe I didn’t want a coconut cupcake,” Richie said, holding up his hands. Rationally, Eddie knew that Richie was joking. If the tone of his voice hadn’t given it away, it was the teasing smile on his face or the amusement in his eyes, but some part of Eddie scolded him for being too forward. He made to put it back into the case.

“Sorry, I just --”

“No no no, I was kidding,” Richie assured, his smile softening as he looked at Eddie. “I’ll try your cupcake.” As Eddie handed the cupcake over to Richie, he reminded himself that Richie was not like Jake and he would not criticize him for being himself. He reminded himself that there was nothing wrong with being excited for Richie to try this. He reminded himself of all of this within the few seconds it took for Richie to take the cupcake. “How much?” Richie asked, but Eddie shook his head.

“It’s on the house,” Eddie smiled as Richie took a bite.

“I mean, I’m not gonna argue with that,” Richie said through a mouthful of cupcake. “Jesus fuck, this is good shit,” he nearly moaned, and Eddie blushed.

“This is a family establishment; watch your language!” Eddie reached out to shove Richie’s shoulder, but Richie just swallowed his bite and grinned.

“What’s going on out here?” Stan asked as he walked through the door leading back to the kitchen. “Oh, hey, Richie,” he said upon seeing the second person there. “I was wondering who was being so loud. Should have known it was you.”

“Stanley!” Richie cheered. “Have you tried Eddie Spaghetti’s cupcakes? They’re so fucking good.”

“Yes, Richie, I’ve tried Eddie’s cupcakes. That’s why I tell him to make them every day,” Stan said exasperatedly, walking over to stand behind the counter with Eddie.

“Excuse you,” Eddie gasped, looking over at Stan. “I make them because I love you and feel like blessing this bakery with my amazing cupcakes, not because you tell me to!”

“Okay, Eddie,” Stan said in a tone of voice that told them that he didn’t really believe what he was saying -- he was just placating Eddie -- before he reached out to ruffle Eddie’s hair. Eddie pouted and Richie reached out to pinch his cheek lightly.

“Cute, cute, cute,” he smiled, and so did Eddie.

“Hey, I gotta go,” Stan said, interrupting the moment and taking the attention off of Eddie, which he appreciated. Eddie, of course, had expected this because Stan took his lunch at the same time every day. “The cookies have about ten minutes left. Don’t let them burn,” Stan warned as he reached behind him to untie his apron, tucking it on a shelf beneath the counter. “I’ll be back later.” He leaned over and kissed Eddie’s cheek, and Eddie called out a quick “have a nice lunch!” as Stan walked out with a wave.

Later that day, when Richie left, he ruffled Eddie’s hair and kissed his cheek as well because if Stan and Mike could do it, then so could he.

_ (He swore he wasn’t jealous except he maybe was -- just a little bit) _

That night, Richie sent Eddie a message saying  _ ‘i had fun today. it was nice seeing u’  _ which he thought seemed innocent enough, and it would have been harmless if Eddie hadn’t left his phone on the couch when he’d gone to take a shower. It would have been harmless if Jake hadn’t been sitting right there to see it.

It would have been, it should have been, but it wasn’t.

\---------

The next day, right around the same time as the day before, Richie walked in to the bakery. Eddie had been placing a dozen cupcakes behind the display when he walked in, so he set them all down neatly before he pulled one out. He then stood up straight again and grinned at Richie.

He had no clue that Jake had seen his message the night before; he didn’t even know Richie had texted him before because Jake had promptly deleted it.

“Back already?” Eddie asked, extending his arm -- with the hand holding the cupcake -- as Richie came closer.

“Couldn’t resist those cupcakes of yours,” Richie smiled, taking it from Eddie and immediately taking a bite. After he’d swallowed, he spoke again. “You haven’t been answering my texts. That’s very rude of you, Eds.”

“What?” Eddie asked, a smile still on his face even as his brows furrowed and his head tilted just slightly. 

“My texts,” Richie said, licking a bit of icing from his thumb after he spoke. “You haven’t been answering them.”

Eddie pulled his phone out of his back pocket and unlocked it, the smile falling from his face as his frown deepened. He scrolled through all of his messages, but he didn’t find a single message from Richie since the day they’d had dinner with Jake.

“There’s -- There’s nothing there,” Eddie whispered, his mind immediately going to  _ Jake,  _ who had a habit of poking his nose in Eddie’s personal items such as his phone and his song book. He looked up at Richie then, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. “What did you text me?” He asked, hands starting to shake again as he pocketed his phone.  _ “Show me.” _

“Okay,” Richie said slowly, setting his cupcake down on the counter between them before he pulled out his phone. After unlocking it, he gave it to Eddie and allowed him to search through his messages.

As Eddie read through all the messages Richie had sent him, he wondered why none were on his phone and where they had gone. He knew there could only be one thing that happened, and that thought scared him half to death.

“Oh my god,” he breathed, staring down at the screen even as his vision blurred due to the tears in his eyes. He vaguely heard Richie asking him what was wrong, but he didn’t answer, setting the phone down on the counter and immediately going to untie the apron from behind his back. He yanked it off and shoved it beneath the counter, not daring to look at Richie as he said, “I gotta go home, I gotta go home, fuck I gotta --”

“Eddie, slow down, what’s going on?” Richie asked, wondering how Eddie could go from being so happy to so frantically anxious.

“I didn’t get any of your messages,” he whimpered, running a hand through his hair and pulling once as his anxiety peaked. 

“You said that, Eddie, but I don’t understand why you’re freaking out like this,” Richie spoke, and Eddie groaned in frustration because Richie wasn’t  _ getting _ it.

“Rich,” Eddie said, finally looking up at him again. Richie’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of Eddie standing there, somehow there but  _ not there  _ at once. His eyes were bloodshot, hair standing up from where he’d been running his hands through it, and Richie -- Richie never fucking wanted to see him so destroyed again.  “If I didn’t get the texts, and you sent them, then that means that  _ Jake  _ got them.”

Richie got it.

Eddie could see the exact moment that Richie got it because his lips parted as his frown relaxed and he wondered if Richie was thinking back on every text he’d sent over the past week or so. Eddie sniffled and quickly wiped away a stray tear before he quickly turned around and opened the door back to the kitchen. There was a muffled conversation between Stan and Eddie as Eddie explained that he had to go home.

When Eddie returned, he looked slightly less shaken, though still anxious to get home and try to get things figured out. He couldn’t quite figure out  _ why  _ he wanted to get home. If Jake had been getting his messages, then he’d been seeing them for days now. How could Eddie know if anything was different now? Jake was supposed to be at work at that time anyway, so it’s not like he would be there to have the discussion that Eddie was working himself up over.

“Eddie, fuck --” Richie started. He looked like he might say more, but the bell over the door rang. The sound cut the rest of Richie’s sentence off, and when Eddie looked over at the door, all the air escaped his lungs and his heart -- his heart stopped, skipped over a beat -- and he wondered why things happen the way they do.

There stood Jake -- tall, broad, and angry as ever -- glaring at the two of them. Eddie was suddenly very aware of how close they were standing, so he took a step back without taking his eyes off of Jake. He didn’t dare look away because his boyfriend’s glare was mostly directed at Richie, and Eddie wasn’t going to let that escalate any farther.

“Jake,” he said, voice quiet but somehow still far too loud in the otherwise silent room. “Jake, it’s -- what are you doing here?”

“Wasn’t busy at work today,” he answered, and Eddie felt as if maybe he wasn’t talking to him because Jake never once even  _ glanced  _ at him. Eddie briefly wondered if maybe he had somehow disappeared and he wasn’t standing there anymore, like he was invisible. He wondered if Richie could still see him. He looked up at him and saw Richie glaring at Jake and decided that  _ no,  _ Richie couldn’t see him either. He wasn’t sure he was real. “So I decided to come see my  _ boyfriend,  _ only to find him cuddled up with some little piece of shit who can’t keep his hands to himself.”

Eddie opened his mouth to say something, to defend Richie, maybe, even though he knew that was the worst thing he could do right then. That would only make Jake believe he was right, and that Eddie was cheating on him with Richie.

“Jake, let’s just go home,” Eddie pleaded. “We can talk about it, I promise.” It didn’t seem as if Jake could hear him, and Eddie was getting rather desperate now because both men were starting to look so angry. Eddie had never seen anger on Richie and he immediately decided he didn’t like it, and he’d never seen Jake  _ this  _ angry before, practically shaking with it, and it sent his anxiety through the roof. His stomach twisted into knots, his heart raced, and he felt like he couldn’t  _ breathe,  _ but then there were hands on his shoulders and he was blinking twice to make himself focus on the face above him.  _ “Stan,”  _ he breathed shakily, his hands moving up to grip at Stan’s apron. 

“It’s okay, Eddie; just look at me,” Stan said, doing his very best to get Eddie to calm down. They could both hear the other two men arguing beside them, but Eddie was keeping his attention on Stan in order to calm himself down. He made the mistake of glancing over his friend’s shoulder and saw that Jake was approaching Richie, so before Stan could stop him, he was twisting out of his grip and moving to stand in front of Richie, somehow feeling smaller than ever before but bigger than life as well.

He wondered if that was possible.

Jake didn’t stop. Eddie could see the look in his eyes that told him that he wouldn’t stop until he’d exacted his revenge, and then there was a searing pain, the taste of blood, and he was on the floor. His ears were ringing, and the room was spinning around faster, faster, faster, then it all slowed down and snapped back into place suddenly enough that Eddie could have vomited.

He could hear Richie’s voice, frantically asking if he was okay, and he tried to convince himself that it was Richie who was pulling him up -- but he knew it wasn’t. No, the hands grabbing him were too rough -- almost burning his skin wherever they touched -- and he knew

_ (he fucking knew) _

it was Jake.

“We’re going home,” Jake said with a tone of finality. Eddie didn’t argue, but he could hear Richie protesting -- his voice filled with fear, anger, regret, every kind of emotion that Eddie never wanted to hear in his voice. As he was being dragged out, he looked over his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “It’s okay.” 

And then the door was shutting behind him, and the faint sound of the bell tinkling was what made him look up at Jake again.

Things were going to change. They were going to change, he swore it.

 

\----------------------

 

The next week seemed to drag on forever.

Richie went by the bakery every day. No Eddie, no cupcakes, nothing.

He texted Eddie every day too, making sure to keep things simple and innocent enough. He didn’t want them to be misinterpreted again. He considered going by Eddie’s house, but he thought that might be a bit too much, so he resigned himself to worrying over Eddie every day.

He blamed himself, really. Who else was there to blame? He had sent the texts, knowing he was flirting, and Eddie hadn’t been the one to see them. He’d just been the one to be punished for them.

_ Punished. _

Richie couldn’t wrap his mind around it, but maybe he didn’t really want to. If he ever got to where he could understand Jake’s actions, he would have to recognize that he was no longer sane. He never wanted to understand why Jake did the things he did.

While Eddie was missing, Richie had developed a close friendship with Mike and Stan. It had been awkward at first because, on the surface, they seemed to have nothing in common, but once they actually started talking, things fit together so naturally that Richie couldn’t help but wonder if they had known each other earlier on in life. No one just  _ fit  _ the way they did.

It was Saturday night when Richie went over to Mike’s house. They had a few beers, talking quietly and distracting themselves the best they could from thoughts of Eddie, and it worked for the most part. It was nice, having people who understood what was going on without him having to explain it. He loved Beverly and Bill, but they didn’t  _ understand  _ this because they didn’t know Eddie.

They didn’t know.

Richie was downing his third drink when there was a knock on the door and Mike excused himself to go get it. He was sure he could hear a vague  _ “holy shit”  _ from just outside the kitchen where the door was. He paid it no mind, however, and set his beer bottle down. When he turned around, he was met with Mike and --

and Eddie, standing there with his blue suitcase beside him.

He didn’t say anything at first because Eddie’s lip was still busted and he had healing bruises on his upper arms -- exposed in his t-shirt -- and he looked oh, so nervous, but he was  _ there,  _ and Richie thought he might cry with how relieved he felt.

_ “Eds,”  _ he breathed.

Eddie couldn’t help but giggle despite himself, and that was when Richie smiled.

Smiled because Eddie was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos drink a beer with Richie.  
> Your comments bring Eddie home.


	4. iv

Since the night that Eddie had returned home --  _ home,  _ Richie thought, was the best way to describe it -- he’d been staying with Mike. It had fallen into place naturally without anything even being spoken, and Mike was more than happy to have him.

It had taken everything in him not to be excited when Eddie showed up at his door with a suitcase because he’d hated Jake for so long. He was worried about Eddie, sure, especially upon seeing the healing bruises on his body, but he was so grateful, so  _ relieved  _ that Eddie was home safe.

Throughout the next week or so, Richie was almost constantly at his house just because Eddie was there, and Mike didn’t think he minded. He could tell they had a bond that no one could really compete with -- not even him -- but he was okay with that. Eddie always lit up whenever Richie walked into the room. That fire that Mike thought had disappeared would always shine through when he would banter with Richie. It always warmed Mike’s heart to see Eddie smile so wide.

He hadn’t seen him this happy since before Jake had come along. It was hard not to notice the difference between Eddie with Jake and Eddie with Richie. They had become so close in such a short amount of time, and Mike had his suspicions that maybe neither one of them had feelings that were totally platonic. It was always something  _ more,  _ something bigger than either of them realized.

Stan had taken to coming over after work as well, which Mike appreciated because he didn’t think he could stand to be alone with Eddie and Richie, no matter how much he loved the both of them. He would stay for dinner, then leave after sunset to go back home and rest before the next day at work. Eddie went back to the bakery that Wednesday, though Richie and Mike were both nervous to send him there. Stan promised them he would keep an eye out for Jake -- since he knew where Eddie worked, when he worked, and what he would be doing at all times -- and let them know if anything happened. That was the only reason they were okay with sending him off alone.

That didn’t mean they didn’t worry.

Mike went to work at the library and Richie went to band practice, but each of them kept their phones within arms’ reach just in case. 

Things were easy, even when they weren’t really. When Eddie would have a bad night, it would be obvious. He wouldn’t eat dinner, and he wouldn’t be willing to stay in the living room and watch shitty tv shows with the others. He would head straight to his room, sometimes he went to take a shower first, and he would lock himself in where he would stay the rest of the night. Richie would be the one to offer to go check on him, so he would sit outside the door and tap gently, speaking words so quietly that Mike could barely hear them. Once, when Mike had come around the corner, he had seen Richie with his back against the door, facing the opposite wall as he spoke to Eddie. He had heard him that time. He was talking about things that had happened at band practice, a guy he saw walking down the street eating a plate of spaghetti -- _ “Spaghetti, Eds, honestly” --  _ and then he said that Bill had brought cupcakes for them all, but that they hadn’t been as good as Eddie’s.

Mike smiled as he turned to walk away unnoticed. He might have been mistaken, but he swore he heard a faint giggle coming from the bedroom.

The bad nights came more often than the good nights, but when things were good, they were  _ so good.  _ After dinner, Mike and Stan would wash the dishes -- Mike washing, Stan drying -- while Eddie and Richie were choosing a movie. Mike could hear them bickering back and forth, trying to decide between two movies. Richie always gave in to Eddie’s choice, and when the movie started, Eddie’s head would rest against Richie’s shoulder, and Richie’s arm would be draped over him. It was easy, it was good, and it was everything Mike could have hoped for.

Eddie was home, and it felt like their little group was complete.

 

\-------------------

 

“Richie, where are we going?” Eddie asked, turning away from the trees passing by them to look over at him. They were in his car, and Richie had a pleased little smile on his face, but Eddie hadn’t been told where they were going. It had been very sudden, really, when he had come home from work and gotten his usual greeting from Mike. Richie had shown up at the door and asked if Eddie was up for going anywhere, and when Mike urged him to go, he allowed Richie to lead him to his car.

“Don’t ruin the surprise,” Richie said playfully, one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand was propped up near the window so the smoke from his cigarette would blow out into the cool night air.

“That’s really bad for you,” Eddie pointed out, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting because he  _ hated  _ not knowing things.

“What, surprises?” Richie laughed lightly, sparing a glance over at Eddie -- who just looked too cute not to look at for a moment.

“No, dumbass,” Eddie rolled his eyes. Richie’s smile never faltered because this was  _ usual  _ for them. “The  _ smoking.  _ It takes something like eight minutes off of your life every time you smoke a cigarette.”

“Well, we can’t have that, now, can we, Eds?” Richie asked. Though he hated seeing Richie smoke, Eddie couldn’t help but watch as his lips wrapped around it, then as he blew it out so casually. The wind from the cracked window was blowing a few of his curls around, and Eddie thought that maybe Richie looked rather beautiful like this. Before Eddie could say anything else, Richie was throwing the cigarette out of the window and then grinning. “Better?” He asked.

Eddie huffed out a breath, cheeks a light pink.

“Better,” he mumbled, looking in front of them at where they were going. It took less than five minutes for them to get to where they were going. When Eddie looked out of the window up at the building beside where they’d parked, he frowned. “What are we doing at the Aladdin?” He asked, looking over at Richie who suddenly looked very bashful.

“You remember a few nights ago when we were eating dinner,” Richie started, unbuckling himself after he turned off the truck. “You mentioned that you wanted to go see the new Justice League movie.”

Eddie vaguely remembered mentioning such a thing, and he was more surprised that  _ Richie _ recalled him mentioning it. He was sure it had just been said in passing, meant to be forgotten since no one had been listening anyway. He supposed that’s where he’d made his mistake. Someone had been listening;  _ Richie  _ had been listening. 

“Really?” Eddie asked, looking over at Richie with wide, bright eyes. “We’re seeing Justice League?”

When Richie grinned and nodded his head, Eddie gave a small squeal of excitement and quickly got out of the truck, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited for Richie to do the same.

Eddie wasn’t sure if he knew, but as they walked into the theater, Richie’s hand rested on his lower back. It wasn’t there to guide him, really, just there as a gentle reminder that they were there  _ together.  _ It stayed there as Richie bought their tickets, as Eddie got them some candy and popcorn (which he spilled just a little bit of — honestly, he didn’t mean to; he’d just gotten distracted because his shirt had ridden up when he’d reached for the popcorn and he could suddenly feel one of Richie’s fingers against his bare skin and it  _ startled  _ him but not necessarily in a bad way), and it stayed there as they made their way up to their seats in the top row. It only moved when Eddie sat down with Richie right beside him. Then, Richie took the candy from Eddie and opened the small box.

There were other people in the theater, though none that looked too familiar to Eddie in the dim lights. The screen was still showing generic ‘Please silence your phones’ messages, so the lights were still lit just enough to see the stairs they’d had to walk up to get to their seats. Since the movie had been out for a while already, the theater wasn’t packed, but they weren’t alone by any means.

“I can’t believe I’m  _ actually  _ seeing Justice League.  _ In theaters.  _ I thought I was going to have to wait for it to be on Netflix to see it,” Eddie gushed, trying to keep his voice down so he wouldn’t draw the attention of the other movie-goers.

If he was being honest, Richie didn’t really care much for seeing movies in theaters because he always got antsy about halfway through and could never pay attention to the plot for any longer than an hour. If he watched them at home, he could pause the movie and get up to get himself a snack or walk around for a bit, and no one could get annoyed when he wouldn’t shut up and stay still. He may not have liked going to the theater, but he figured if Eddie got this excited every time, he could put up with it.

“Did you see Wonder Woman?” Eddie asked, pulling Richie from his thoughts and making him look over at him -- his date? Could he call him that?

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I saw Wonder Woman. Bev took me a few months ago,” Richie responded. He recalled that night fondly. She had recently been through a bad breakup with a man named Tom, so Richie had taken her to the drive-in where he treated her to a  _ proper date. _ They both knew that Richie was gay as all get out, but Beverly had the most fun she’d had in a while that night. They piled blankets up in the back of his truck, brought a pizza along with them, and watched Wonder Woman all night. It had been amazing, Richie thought, and he found himself wondering if Eddie had ever been to the drive-in and what he thought of it. Maybe they could all go one day: Eddie and Richie and all of their friends. 

“It was  _ amazing,  _ wasn’t it? I mean, I cried when Steve died because poor Diana, of course, but I know that it was a necessary death,” Eddie rambled. “But did you see how in love he must have been with her? I mean, so many movies make  _ women  _ the helpless ones, the ones who need saving, but in this one, Diana was the one who saved the men -- over and over again! How cool is that?” 

Richie thought maybe he could have watched Eddie talk about this all night. His hands were gesturing excitedly as he spoke, his mind moving faster than his mouth could, his eyes shining with how happy he was that he could talk about this with someone. His cheeks were flushed out of pure joy, and Richie -- Richie just fucking loved it.

“I think you’d really like my friend Bev,” Richie said instead of voicing any thought about Eddie aloud. 

“What makes you say that?” Eddie asked, his head tilting slightly as he looked up at Richie.

“You’re both huge nerds,” Richie smiled easily. Eddie muttered a quiet  _ “fuck off”  _ but then fell silent shortly after when the lights went down and the previews began playing on the screen in front of them.

Ten minutes in, they were out of popcorn.

An hour in, Eddie was so focused on the movie that he almost didn’t feel a feather light touch against the back of his hand -- the hand that was resting on the armrest between them -- just a soft brush of fingers against his knuckles. He kept his eyes on the screen as three fingers tapped out a beat on the freckles on his hand, but he finally looked down at their hands when Richie’s larger one relaxed and covered Eddie’s own. He looked down at them, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Richie was looking at him.

Eddie wondered if he felt this nervous, like his heart was going to beat so fast that it might flutter right out of his chest and keep going, like he couldn’t breathe properly, but instead of worrying on that, he gently flipped his hand over and laced his fingers with Richie’s.

When he looked up at Richie -- just to see if that was okay -- Eddie saw him already looking down at him with a look in his eye that he couldn’t quite decipher. He decided he didn’t really mind it.

The movie played on, not that Eddie was really paying attention. The more time that passed, the more Eddie became aware that he had not been on a date in far too long. A real date, that is, with someone he wanted to spend all of his time around. Could he call this a date? Is that what this was?

It sure felt like it. To him, at least. He didn’t know if he could say the same for Richie.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed -- and truthfully he couldn’t tell you what had happened in the movie either -- until Eddie felt Richie’s hand leave his own. He hated that Richie was letting go of him, because it had been a calming gesture there -- Richie’s thumb brushing over his knuckles or fingers tapping a silent beat on to the back of his hand. Eddie wondered if Richie constantly had music playing in his mind.

He blushed hotly, wondering why Richie didn’t want to hold his hand anymore. Maybe he had been so nervous that it had started sweating and it was  _ gross _ or maybe Richie had been doing the same amount of thinking that Eddie had been doing, but it wasn’t nearly as good, or maybe --

The thoughts stopped when Richie lifted the armrest between them. Eddie frowned at the movement, but he relaxed again when he felt Richie’s arm around his shoulders. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do in that situation because it had been a long time since Jake had wanted to have him so close, but he eventually did what he really wanted to do. He leaned in closer, his head resting on Richie’s shoulder. Though his eyes remained on the screen, he was paying no mind to it, more focused on Richie’s knuckles brushing up and down his upper arm.

He could always watch the movie later.

Richie -- Richie was now.

 

\---------

 

They drive home with music playing softly, filling the space where conversation might have been any other day. Things were different, Eddie supposed, because he didn’t feel the need to try to break that silence. The windows were rolled down and Eddie had an arm out of his window just so he could feel the air rushing past him. The smile on his face hadn’t faded, but he couldn’t bring himself to be nervous about it because Richie’s hadn’t either.

When they got back to Mike’s, Eddie unbuckled himself and turned to look at Richie.

“I had fun tonight,” he said, but he frowned when he saw that Richie was unbuckling too. “What are you doing?” He asked, not bothering to hide the smile once again tugging at his lips.

“I am a  _ gentleman,  _ Eds; I’m not gonna let you walk yourself up to the door. I’m gonna walk with you,” Richie said, and Eddie rolled his eyes -- fondly, of course, but he still rolled his eyes more than he ever had before when he was with Richie.

“Such a gentleman,” Eddie teased, opening the door and getting out. “Didn’t even open my door for me.”

He could hear Richie’s protest of  _ “you didn’t give me a chance!”  _ as he laughed and shut the door. When Richie came around the truck to meet him, they were both still laughing quietly. Silence fell again as Richie wrapped his arm around Eddie’s waist loosely, still not sure what their boundaries were quite yet. He supposed maybe that was a conversation they should have, but now was not the time.

Eddie stopped in front of the door and turned to face Richie, consequently pulling his arm off of his waist.

“Was this a date?” He asked in a moment of courage, looking up at him. 

“A date?” Richie asked, one hand reaching up to rub at the back of his own neck. Eddie could have  _ sworn  _ there was a blush creeping up to his cheeks, but he didn’t point it out. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be. It  _ can  _ be, but it’s -- I mean, it’s up to you,” he finally got out. He got more visibly nervous the longer Eddie stayed silent.

Before Eddie said anything else, he reached up to rest one of his hands on Richie’s cheek, thumb brushing over the scattering of freckles there. It was with this light grip that he tugged Richie down and stood on his toes to press a kiss to the other cheek.

“I don’t mind,” he admitted in a whisper. The smile he gave Richie nearly knocked him off his feet. So soft, so sweet, and Richie realized then that maybe he might love Eddie.

Just a little bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos watch Justice League with Eddie.  
> Your comments kiss Richie's cheek.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THAT IT HAS TAKEN ME TWO MONTHS TO GET THIS UPDATE OUT HERE.  
> The next chapter won't take as long.  
> The song mentioned in this chapter is So, which can be found in the LMB playlist.  
> Follow my tumblr @queereddie and validate me!!! Love you guys. <3

Another band had come into town and taken Richie’s usual Saturday slot for a few weeks -- which Richie had not been happy about, ranting to Eddie about how their band had been there for weeks and all it had taken was a little bit of money from someone else and he didn’t have a slot anymore -- which left the boys without their usual Saturday night plans for a few weeks. It was almost a month later that Orion’s Belt had their spot back, so naturally, Eddie was going to go support Richie.

After their date -- that’s what Eddie had taken to referring to it as even though he never really said it aloud -- things had changed somehow. They still bantered almost constantly, which drove Mike crazy, but something changed in Eddie’s mind, in his heart. Things  _ felt  _ different. He wasn’t sure that he could explain it, really, but it was like a switch had flipped somewhere inside of him, like someone had turned on a light where there hadn’t been light before.

Times with Richie felt different, too. Their nights lasted longer with Richie staying later and keeping Eddie up until some god awful hour of the morning -- not that Eddie was arguing. They would lay in Eddie’s bed side by side and talk about whatever was on their minds. Some nights, conversation was lighthearted and fun, and other nights it wasn’t so much. They would talk about life growing up, about where they wanted to go, about music they’d heard that the other might like. It was nice, Eddie thought, to be able to talk so openly about all of this stuff with someone who maybe understood. Mike tried to understand, but there were some things he couldn’t understand, and those were the things that Richie  _ could  _ understand. Because of that, something clicked inside of him, and his bond with Richie grew ever deeper.

It was during one of those nights that Richie had mentioned that Eddie should meet his friends and bandmates, Beverly and Bill. They were nice, he had assured, and were already so eager to meet him. It had taken only a little convincing on Richie’s part, but eventually, Eddie agreed.

He didn’t think he’d ever felt so nervous to go to one of Richie’s performances, but the added stress of meeting two people who were obviously important to Richie was enough to raise his anxiety level. From what Richie had told him, he knew he shouldn’t be nervous, but he couldn’t help it.

By the time Eddie had managed to slow his thoughts down enough to focus on what he was doing, Stan was already leading him inside. He had promised that Mike would be there later, but for now it was just the two of them going to meet Richie’s friends.

Eddie felt like maybe Stan had a little less to worry about here.

It turns out that Eddie didn’t have too much to worry about. In fact, he felt a bit silly for being so worried in the first place because Beverly and Bill didn’t put too much pressure on him. They treated him as if they’d known him forever, including him in their banter and occasionally asking him questions about himself. It was never too intimidating, especially with Richie right beside him cracking dumb jokes and laughing loudly. 

If Eddie had to have a word for it, he would say that it felt like home. Things hadn’t felt this easy in far too long. 

When Eddie walked out into the crowd that was forming, Mike was there in their usual spots at the very front. He and Stan made their way over to him, and Mike didn’t say anything, but he and Stan shared a knowing look at the sight of Eddie’s wide smile. That grin didn’t falter the entire concert as Orion’s Belt played some of their usual songs and some newer ones, and it especially didn’t falter when the three of them met up with Beverly, Bill, and Richie after the concert.

Conversation struck up easily once they were all together again, but Eddie and Richie were slightly separated from the group. They were all sat at the bar, but Eddie and Richie were on the end, bodies turned so their knees knocked against each other every so often as they talked. While Bill recounted a story of something that had happened that day -- Eddie wasn’t paying attention, if he was being honest, because he and Richie had their heads ducked toward each other so they could hear each other better -- Richie was speaking to Eddie just loud enough to be heard over the music playing in the background.

“I have something to show you,” he said, his demeanor changing into something more nervous from their previous playful mood. 

“Oh?” Eddie asked, turning so that his body was angled slightly toward Richie so he could look at him easier. “What is it?” His eyes flickered down to Richie’s hands, half expecting to see him holding something that he hadn’t noticed before. Richie must have noticed this because he laughed lightly and showed his empty palms to Eddie.

“I don’t have it on me. It’s not… I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. Can you come over maybe?” Richie had an apartment on the outskirts of town that he’d started renting about the time Orion’s Belt had gotten a steady gig at this bar. Eddie knew that, yet he’d never actually been there. “Bev and Bill are going to Ben’s, so it’ll just be me and you. You know, if that’s okay,” Richie spoke again, and oh, Eddie must have taken a few seconds too long to reply and made him nervous.

Eddie would have liked to make a joke about how Richie was trying to get him alone, but his brain short-circuited and he couldn’t construct a clever response. 

“Yeah, I’ll come over,” he nodded.

Telling the others that he was going home with Richie was somehow not as intimidating as he thought it might be and more intimidating at the same time. Beverly and Bill apparently already knew about Richie’s plan -- Eddie suspected maybe that was why they decided to go to Ben’s house instead of to the apartment -- so they didn’t seem too surprised. Mike tugged Eddie over to him as Beverly, Bill, Richie, and Stan all talked, taking that distraction as his chance to talk to Eddie about this.

“Eddie, are you sure you wanna go home with him?” Mike asked, glancing over at Richie as he laughed at one of his own jokes. 

“Yeah, it’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re going to  _ do anything.  _ He just has something to show me.” When Mike grumbled out something about Richie’s dick, Eddie shoved his shoulder -- lovingly, of course, he did it with love -- and glared. “Not like that, dumbass.”

“I know, I know,” Mike raised his hands in surrender. “Not like that.” There was a moment of silence as Mike sighed. “Call me if you need anything, okay? I’m off work tomorrow so I’ll see you when you get home.”

Eddie smiled and leaned up on his toes to press a quick kiss to Mike’s cheek before he looked back at Richie, who was already looking at him and grinned once their eyes met. They left together, and though Mike was worried for him -- naturally -- he trusted both Eddie and Richie. 

He just couldn’t help but worry.

\--------

The ride to Richie’s apartment didn’t take as long as Eddie thought it might. In fact, it was so close to his own house that he caught himself wondering why he hadn’t been there before. The building was less than a mile from Mike’s house, a little over two miles from the house he used to live in with Jake, and was several stories tall. Richie’s apartment was on the top floor, which surprised Eddie even more than he already was, so Richie led Eddie into the elevator across the hall. 

It took less than a minute for the elevator to reach the top floor, but Eddie thought that an eternity could have fit itself into those sixty seconds. There was enough space between them for a whole other person to stand in, but he still felt like they were so close -- too close -- for him to even dare to breathe. It was like he was suddenly hyper-aware of every move that Richie made, conscious of every little twitch of his own fingertips, the way he was standing, how loud he was breathing. He took the time to slow his breathing down, counting in for four beats and out for four like Richie had done with him when things got bad.

As soon as the doors opened with a  _ ding  _ sounding from the elevator itself, Eddie was stumbling out into the hallway. Richie followed at his own pace, one hand digging through his pocket to pull out his key.

Eddie wondered if Richie had felt the same way he had.

Hearing him whistle out a familiar tune -- a song that had been performed earlier that night, he was sure -- and seeing him spin the key ring around his finger, Eddie decided that it had all been in his head. It was his own nerves getting to him. As Richie unlocked the door, Eddie swore to himself that he wouldn’t put too much pressure on himself. He wasn’t sure what Richie had to show him, but that was okay. He wouldn’t let himself fret over it, and he wouldn’t let himself get nervous just because he was alone with Richie in his apartment. 

Did Mike know where he was?

Maybe he should go home.

“Want a drink?” Richie asked, walking in and tossing his keys on the island of the tiny kitchen they walked in to as soon as the door was open.

“Huh?” Eddie asked, knocking himself out of his thoughts as Richie opened the refrigerator door. “Oh. No, I’m okay.” He watched as Richie made himself a cup of coffee and refrained from making a comment about how caffeine at this hour was just a disaster waiting to happen.

He was sure Richie already knew that anyway.

“Come on,” Richie said, tilting his head toward the doorway. Eddie picked at the side of his thumb with his index finger as he followed Richie into his living room. It was another small room, but it was carpeted with a window looking out over Derry -- which, admittedly, wasn’t that nice of a view, but it was a view nonetheless -- and a couch facing a television which was currently turned off.

Eddie couldn’t help his small smile at the space. It wasn’t spotless, but it wasn’t too messy. He wondered if Richie had straightened up before he’d left earlier because he knew Eddie would be coming over.

He wondered if that was weird to think about, but he realized that maybe he didn’t care if it was or not.

“Sit,” Richie said, and Eddie thought maybe his voice trembled a little, but he didn’t point it out. He didn’t say anything, just sitting on the couch and looking toward the window. Richie disappeared into another room, returning moments later with his guitar in hand. This one was different than the one from the concert, and Eddie couldn’t help but ask the question.

“How many guitars do you own?” He asked, laughter hidden in his voice as he watched Richie sit beside him. Their knees just barely nudged as they turned to each other, and even just that simple touch made Eddie’s heart stutter in his chest.

“Five,” Richie answered, glaring playfully when Eddie raised his brows in amusement. “But this one was my first! She’s got a special place in my heart.”

“Who needs that many guitars?” Eddie asked, shaking his head. “That’s insane.”

_ “I _ need that many guitars. You don’t understand, Eds; they’re just so  _ pretty.  _ And you’ve gotta have a variety! You need acoustic, electric --”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. “I get it. You like guitars. Does this one have a name?” 

“Who do you think I am? Of course she has a name,” Richie scoffed. He patted the guitar, giving a crooked grin as he said, “This is Ophelia.”

“Ophelia? Like from Hamlet?” Eddie asked, more than a little surprised that Richie would name his first guitar after a Shakespearean play. 

“Ah, my little Eddie-Bear understands my reference!” Richie’s hand moved to his chest, patting over his heart. “My poor heart can’t take it. He’s smart  _ and  _ beautiful.”

Eddie blushed, but chose not to say anything about the compliment. What could he even say? He should have been used to being complimented by Richie, but somehow, every time felt like the first.

“I don’t think there’s a single high school graduate who  _ doesn’t  _ understand your reference,” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Well, to be fair, I got this guitar when I was in high school, and we were reading Hamlet at the time. I liked her character! So I named my baby after her,” Richie defended, shifting so that he could hold his guitar properly, resting it on his leg as he got comfortable. “So you remember when you called me a while ago,” he started, looking more nervous than before. He kept shifting his weight, avoiding direct eye contact with Eddie, and it made him more anxious than it should have.

It’s just Richie, he reminded himself. No need to be nervous.

“Yeah,” he breathed, nodding once for Richie to go on.

“I told you I was working on a song.” He stopped again to clear his throat. Eddie couldn’t tell whether his smile was more nervous or bashful. 

“Yeah, I asked you to sing it for me sometime,” Eddie spoke, voice shaking on the last syllable as he realized that Richie was going to play him a song. This situation was much more intimate than he would have expected it to be when he asked to first hear the song, and it wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, but it set his nerves on edge.

He couldn’t really explain why.

“Well,” Richie chuckled, though there didn’t seem to be much humor behind it. “Still wanna hear it?”

Eddie swallowed hard and sat up a little straighter, thinking that somehow that might prepare him for what Richie had to give him. Maybe that would make this easier, make it feel like his heart wasn’t about to burst out of his chest, like his hands would still again. Maybe it would make the anxiety blooming in his chest die down.

He nodded.

There was a second of silence where Eddie wondered if Richie could hear his heartbeat -- there was no way he couldn’t, he thought, he could hear his own heartbeat and it was  _ so loud  _ \-- but then Richie started strumming at his guitar. The first chords came slowly and it seemed to Eddie that he was simply checking to see if it was in tune, then he started singing.

His voice was soft and raspy. Yes, Eddie had heard him sing before, but it was always in concert with more upbeat songs, but this song was slow, gentle, and Eddie swore he didn’t have goosebumps, but he did.

_ “I’m filled up with doubt, I have to move home, but I want to stay with you for all of the summer. I have my plan that you won’t remember. If you want to see the world, then please ask your mother. I cannot hold your hand to watch you go. I am a liar, as you might know. I need you now, I need your touch and your lips, I need that smile and your kiss.” _

By the time the chorus started, Richie no longer had to look at his hand to watch the chords he was making. Eddie wondered if he’d played it late at night sometimes, eyes closed as he hummed along to the tune and found the right chords to complete the song. The only problem with Richie no longer looking at his hands was that he was now looking directly at Eddie. The previous nervousness seemed to have faded, and now a small smile graced Richie’s face as he sang the song he knew by heart.

No matter how anxious the eye contact made him, Eddie couldn’t seem to look away. He couldn’t help but wonder if this song was written for him, but he brushed that off because -- why would Richie write him a song? Especially if he’d been writing it while he was still with Jake, who Richie  _ knew  _ was an asshole. But the way he was looking at Eddie had him wondering if maybe… maybe it was for him.

He didn’t even realize when the song was over that he hadn’t spoken in far too long.

“So?” Richie asked, the nerves back and ever so obvious in the way he fiddled with his own fingers in front of his guitar.

“So,” Eddie breathed. Richie didn’t make a move, didn’t open his mouth to make some dumb joke, so Eddie knew it was up to him to say something first. “That was really beautiful. I… I loved it. You wrote that?”

Richie visibly relaxed when Eddie admitted that he liked the song, and he nodded his head. 

“Yeah, I wrote it. It… just kinda came to me one night. Didn’t take long,” he confessed with a shrug of his shoulder.

“It… I really liked it,” Eddie whispered, moving so that he was sitting cross-legged on the couch facing Richie. He then leaned forward so his elbows were on his knees and he could almost count every freckle on Richie’s cheeks. He wondered if he would be able to see more if the glasses weren’t in the way. He didn’t seem to be too eager to say anything -- which was odd, especially for Richie -- so Eddie reached out with both hands and gently pulled Richie’s glasses off of his face, smiling when he could see him without the obstruction blocking his face. “There you are,” he breathed.

“Wish I could see you,” Richie murmured. Eddie moved one hand to Richie’s cheek, thumb brushing over his cheekbone where a blush bloomed beneath his skin. 

“I’m right in front of you, idiot,” Eddie laughed breathlessly. Their faces were so close that he could see that Richie’s brown eyes almost shone gold in the lighting of the room. It was so fucking  _ endearing  _ that he had to close his eyes for a second. When he reopened them, he was surprised to see that Richie was no longer looking into his eyes.

If Eddie wasn’t mistaken, Richie was now staring at his lips, but after a second, brown eyes flickered back up to meet his own and the blush on his cheeks was deepening.

“Oops,” Richie smiled, and Eddie thought that maybe he stopped breathing. He reminded himself to inhale, then to exhale, though it was shaky when he did so.

“Do you want to kiss me?” He asked softly. His voice was barely there, barely audible even to himself, but he knew Richie had heard him.

He saw a pink tongue poke out to wet Richie’s lips, and then Richie was nodding and Eddie was sure that all the breath was forced from his lungs this time. There was no doubt about it.

“Fuck, yes,” Richie breathed. Eddie could feel it, his breath against his lips as he spoke. They were  _ so close,  _ and Eddie found himself wondering if Richie’s lips were as soft as they looked.

He supposed now was his chance to find out.

“Then do it.” Eddie had barely gotten the words out when Richie closed the small gap between them and their lips were pressed together. Eddie’s hands were both on Richie’s cheeks, and he just barely felt knuckles brush against his sides before the guitar that had previously been in Richie’s lap shifted and bumped against Eddie chest. This startled him enough that he jumped back, but when he realized what happened, he started laughing. Richie, though he looked a little embarrassed by the quick end to an amazing kiss, laughed along as he moved the guitar on to the coffee table.

He was still quietly laughing as he reached out to take his glasses from Eddie, but Eddie pulled them just out of reach.

“Come on, baby, I can’t see without them,” Richie whined, reaching for them again.

“How blind are you anyway?” Eddie asked, sliding them on to his own face and blinking in surprise at how large and extremely blurry things were through them. “Holy  _ shit,” _ he almost squeaked, immediately bursting into laughter again. “How do you see in these things?”

He turned to Richie again, but he didn’t have to look very far for him. Richie’s face was right there close to his and he had a crooked grin on his lips.

“Glasses fit you,” Richie said. “You look cute in them.”

This time, he didn’t wait for Eddie to ask; he just leaned forward and pressed their lips together again. As they moved in slow tandem, Eddie thought that maybe this is how it’s supposed to feel. 

And maybe he loved Richie just a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your kudos try on Richie's glasses.  
> Your comments write love songs for Eddie.


End file.
